That of Tragedy and Feathers
by AteKake
Summary: Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones had been such committed lovers to one and other. A strange spark in Alfred's behavior worries the Brit, and what happens when tragedy befalls the two? Torn apart by death. Alfred was meant to always be there for Arthur, even if one should be the angel to the other. Is Alfred really as happy of a person as he appears? (USUK Warnings inside.)
1. Introductions

AteKake: Okay, so this is my first Hetalia fanfic so I hope that this is a good story. w Anyway, why don't I try this out and let's see how much people like this fic.

Warnings: This may be a longer story with long chapters. Things may seem fast at first, but you should read on to find out why. ;) This is unbetaed (How do I spell this I don't even-) and this story is written purely by my limited knowledge. I am from the U.S. so expect my different terms for things in the U.K. (where the beginning of this story will take place). Also, I do not really know of many terms there as well, so I apologize for my stupidity.

This story is USUK, don't like, please don't read. There may be other pairings as well, especially watch out for these specifics: GerIta, Spamano, Sufin, Dennor, and perhaps more based on how this goes. Keep in mind that I tend to have a major OTP and will most likely write about them (in this case, USUK).

This plot may seem a bit simple at first but there is a very complicated plot. Although, there will be character death and even some unexpected hinting to some life beyond death. Angst will be there, as well as moments of fluff. There may be even a few plot twists! Expect the unexpected! XP Mainly there will be character backstories explained in this chapter, and even more explaining when things get a bit confusing.

May contain lemon later on (still procrastinating about this).

Well, here goes with the first chapter.

* * *

Rain. That's what always fell from the skies of London, England. You could hear the small pounding of the water droplets on windows, creating a small and minor rhythm. Staring out the window of his small home, Arthur Kirkland looked at his phone. 8:23 p.m. A simple sigh escaped his lips as he looked back out the window, worried and almost in a trance of concern.

Nowhere to be found. Where is he? Doesn't that git know that he always worries about him? These were Arthur's thoughts as he thought back to this morning, barely even knowing that his companion had left the house very early in that day. All that the Briton could remember were the loud rumble of his signature motorcycle and a small 'I love you,' before the closing of many doors.

Arthur sighed once more, looking down at the small angel wing necklace that his lover had gotten him. Where was that idiot that he loved? He kissed the wings, thinking a small prayer of protection and asking any higher power to watch over the one who had given him the necklace.

A few more patters of rain on the window still. Hypnotizing. Arthur snapped out of the small trance of worry, shaking his head to wake himself up. A bit of an annoyed sigh escaped his lips, "Keep calm and carry on, Arthur, keep calm." The Brit then looked at his phone once more, bringing the device closer to him. He unlocked the phone once more, sifting through his messages and contacts.

Alfred F. Jones 3

A small smile came across his lips.

The small joke that Alfred had played on him came into mind: _The two were simply adding each other's number to a phone and Alfred, being as cute as he was, put a heart by his own name. The American boy winked at the Brit before walking off with a large smile on his face and a signature boisterous laugh._

From there, the two met up again and again. From small cafes in London to even meeting up all the way in Wales at the beaches, those two always loved to see each other's face. Arthur drifted away from the concern, thinking about what the two had and would do together. Heck, on one of their dates they went to ride the London Eye, took pictures by Big Ben, and even visited Buckingham Palace while the Queen was within it.

Alfred. That cute, goofy American who had met him accidentally in the streets.

* * *

_Rush through the streets to get to class on time. Bloody great, being tardy was the worst thing that Arthur could possibly be. Punctuality was the Briton's life and being a student at the local university, learning about the complicated subject of law. And to be a lawyer, who was late for class, was a horrible thing to be in Arthur's mind. A click of a button and he saw the time: 7:23 a.m. A panicked gasp escaped Arthur's lips as he began picking up his pace. People around him were rushing as well as the horrid Monday started. _

_Just make in time, just make it on bloody time he thought. _

_Not looking at where he was going, Arthur felt a strong force bump into him, causing the male to fall back and onto his rear, dropping a few books in his hands. He had closed his eyes during the fall, hearing someone panic over him. "Ow, bloody hell," he mumbled lowly with an annoyed tone of voce, cracking one eye slightly open. _

_Looking up, he heard small rubbish come from the man who had bumped into him. "Oh crap, sorry bro. I didn't mean to bump into ya'," said the assumed American based on the heavy accent and American slang. _

_Arthur paused for a bit, looking over the American and seeing all of his features: A tall dirty blond with a good face and a pair of glasses. Although, his clothes were more than informal and not suited for the rainy weather of London. The Brit gave the American a small glare, although he collected his books off of the ground, looking away from the stranger. "It's quite alright," he said with a bit of an annoyed tone._

_The American dropped right away onto his knees helping Arthur pick up his text books off of the ground. Arthur stopped, watching the stranger help him. Said person looked up and smiled at him, handing the books that he had picked up over. "Sorry again for bumping into you. Totally my fault, dude," he said with a nervous laugh. _

_Arthur looked over the books before hesitantly grabbing them from the American. Accidentally touching the other's hand, he blushed a bit and quickly pulled his hands away and brought the books back to his chest. "Thank you," he said in a small tone, eyes diverting back from looking at the books and then at the stranger. He gulped nervously, checking his phone, "Bloody hell!" _

_The stranger looked at him and beamed, laughing loudly. "Well, I assume that you're late for something, but here," he said as he grabbed the phone away from the Brit's hands. A small noise of detest came Arthur, although the stranger visibly ignored him. A click from the phone indicated that it was unlocked as he began typing in a number quickly into Arthur's contacts and leaving a note. The American tossed back the phone to Arthur, helping the Briton up off the ground. He smiled starting to walk away from Arthur with a wave. "Check your phone and hopefully we will see each other around," he said cheerily with a wink._

_The stranger laughed loudly as he walked away, leaving Arthur dumbfounded. He looked at his phone, wondering what in the hell did the stranger to do his phone? Looking at his contact book, he saw the very name of the miraculous stranger and a small note that he had typed in. _

"_Alfred F. Jones 3 Meet me at the area near the London Eye at 3:00 p.m. I'll make it up to you for being late for whatever you were going to."_

_He gave a light smile, not caring anymore that he was late for class as he began walking at a slower pace towards the university. "Alright, Alfred. I hope to see you after my classes, you bloody idiot."_

* * *

Ah, that small moment in Arthur's life had changed everything that he would never expect. The two of them had done almost everything together, supporting each other, and taking care of each other. Alfred was Arthur's and Arthur was Alfred's. Although, a small change in Alfred was the cause of all his worry, for Alfred always left the house, he would never say why, and he would return home very late at night. Yes, he would say that he loved Arthur every time that he left; it was just that he would never say where he was going. Hell, Arthur also noted that their bank account slowly decreased, their money going somewhere that Arthur had no clue of.

Naturally, Arthur tried to talk to Alfred about the problem, but he was blown off every time. Alfred would keep that calm smile on, hold Arthur's hand in his own and say that everything was under control and that Arthur need not worry about it at all. Yes, Arthur listened but the bothersome problem kept coming back to Alfred. He only hoped that Alfred wasn't doing anything behind his back.

No, he shouldn't think that Alfred would do anything bad to hurt him. Heck, he only hoped that Alfred's change didn't involve alcohol or any other lowly thing as such (although Arthur wouldn't and shouldn't be one to talk due to his horrible drinking habits).

Turning his train of thought to a different direction, Arthur kept looking at his phone, now looking at the only few messages of the past two weeks of texting Alfred.

"Where are you, Alfred. I'm worried."

"Don't worry, Artie~ I got it under control! ;*"

":* Alright… Please come home.. I worry about you, idiot."

"I will b home l8r at nite. I promise ta' get home a.s.a.p."

"Okay… I love you."

"I luv you more~"

Another smile. Arthur always felt happy when looking over their conversations, although Alfred's constant disappearances kept worrying him. Giving a sigh, he moved to the kitchen. Searching through the cabinets for his tea and a cup, Arthur hoped to calm himself down with the drink. Within a few minutes of boiling water and making his tea, he decided it best to drink on the couch.

Moving to their small living room, Arthur turned on the telly, flipping through channels to find anyone to entertain him. A gasp escaped Arthur's lips as he found that Doctor Who was on. He looked around for any sign of anyone hearing him, bringing his knees close to his chest as he sipped on his tea. Slowly falling asleep, Arthur put down the cup before looking at the screen with drowsy eyes. He pulled the blanket on their couch over himself before closing his eyes slowly and sleeping.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. _Vibrate. _Beep. Beep. Beep. _Vibrate. _

The small noises that came from his phone had awakened him. Arthur blinked a few times, not wanting to wake up at the very moment at all.

A thought came to him though: it might have been Alfred calling his phone. Excitement was radiating from Arthur as he looked at his phone, seeing the caller I.D. "Alfred F. Jones 3" His heart almost skipped a beat as Arthur quickly and clumsily unlocked the phone and answered it in a hurry.

"A-Alfred. Oh I was so worried about you, Love. It's past three o'clock in the morning. Please tell me that-"

"Excuse me, this is Nurse Joana speaking," said an unfamiliar, female voice.

Arthur wondered in silence for a moment, looking around the room. He gulped a lump in his throat nervously. "E-Excuse me? Isn't this Alfred F. Jones' cell phone?" he asked in concern. Who was this woman and why did she say that she was a nurse?

The voice started again in a calm tone. "Yes, this is the phone of Alfred F. Jones and I was informed that you are his boyfriend? He told me to call you right away," the apparent nurse said.

The Brit rubbed his arm slowly, trying to figure out what was going on. "O-Oh alright. What is wrong? Where is Alfred?" he asked, nearing the coat rack just in case of anything.

She sighed, pausing a moment. "Yes, well. Alfred was in a motorcycle accident this morning and he had fatally injured his neck and has broken more than a few bones. Although he was wearing a helmet, the driver who had run into him was under the influence of alcohol. He is now located at the London Bridge Hospital and in the Intensive Care Unit. We would like to ask you to come right away because we are informed that you are one of his only friends within the area."

Arthur's heart stopped. A-Alfred had been… fatally injured on his motorcycle? He put a hand over his mouth, shaking visibly. Oh Lord, no. He couldn't believe this, his Alfred was dying. He needed to be there right away. After a few moments of silence, Arthur spoke into the phone, tears streaming down his face as he stuttered, "I-I swear that I will be there… r-right away."

"Alright then. We will see you soon, Mr. Kirkland."

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

Arthur put down his phone, wiping a few tears away from his face as he thought of his precious Alfred, dying on a hospital bed and fighting for his life. He shook his head, trying to forget about the horrible thought of Alfred's death. No, he was so much stronger than that and he would be strong for Alfred. He put his phone into his pocket before grabbing his trench coat and slipping it on quickly while grabbing the keys from the counter. He rushed outside the door, getting into his small car as quickly as possible, turning on the engine and heading right towards the hospital. "Oh Alfred, please hand on," he said out loud desperately, pulling out the angel wing necklace once more and squeezing it tightly.

* * *

AteKake: Well, so much for my limited knowledge. I have yet to watch Doctor Who, but I really want to! Anyway, tell me how you guys like this and please review. Oh and keep in mind that I will constantly hint to the necklace, this story will take a few turns because of it. Be wary of future chapters, this story may seem like it is going by very fast, but we will get to the point hopefully soon.


	2. Flight of an Eagle

AteKake: Well, I just had to write more cause of a sudden rush of feels that I had while looking on my Tumblr dashboard.

Also, you may notice that I mention angels and that necklace a lot, those things will eventually play a key role in the story.

Warnings: USUK, character deaths, yaoi, lots of angst, and complicated plot.

Also, I have no idea what medical terms are and what is the name of specific equipment so please bear with me.

* * *

His heart was racing as Arthur was slamming on his gas pedal. The Brit was crouched forward, right up against his steering wheel with his teary eyes fixated on the road. "Bloody hell. Bloody hell. Bloody hell. Bloody hell!" Arthur constantly screamed as his heart was pounding. The street lights zoomed by him as Arthur sped by all the lone and dark buildings. The whole city of London even seemed to know Arthur's mood.

The few five minutes of driving from their small home to the nearest hospital seemed like a lifetime of separation to him. Hell, those five minutes were killing Arthur on the inside, thus he felt accomplished as he found a parking spot in the empty lot of the hospital.

In his worry, Arthur immediately turned off his small car, quickly getting out of it. He slammed the small door powerfully (not really meaning to do so), and locked the vehicle as fast as he could, speed walking towards the entrance and fixing his messed hair. Arthur wiped his swollen eyes, not really doing much.

The Briton entered through the automatic doors, stopping right at the front desk. He panted from walking quickly, as well as stress, and most likely looking like a complete mess in front of the lady working there. She looked at Arthur a bit sympathetically.

The lady swiveled in her small chair, looking directly at Arthur. "Welcome to the London Bridge Hospital. How may we help you?" she asked in a kind voice.

Frantic and concerned, Arthur panted a bit pausing between his words, "I-I am… h-here for… Alfred F…. J-Jones." The Brit rested his two hands on the counter, trying to balance himself. He cursed at himself mentally for being so informal and placing his hands where they were. It was not one bit gentlemanly.

The woman nods sadly. It seemed like a lot of people probably knew of his love's condition. The kind lady pointed down the hallway, Arthur's eyes following the direction of where she was directing him towards. "Down his hallway and straight to Emergency Room Number 1. He should be right there," she said with gentle eyes.

Arthur nodded his head, thanking her quickly before speeding once again towards the room. He could see the room number grow larger and closer as he neared the hospital room; his footsteps in a hypnotic and quick pattern.

The Brit slowed down a bit, calming himself by taking in deep breathes and holding in his hand that one necklace once more. One last deep breath and he slowly and quietly opened the door, peering through a small slit. He couldn't believe his eyes:

Alfred was hooked up to many machines, a breathing tube was on his nose to help supply him with the proper amount of oxygen. A few I.V's must have already been taken because of the tube taped onto his arm. The poor American was already in a neck brace, the blue and usually vibrant eyes were dulled as he stared down at the floor. There was another machine also hooked up to him, a small and strange heartbeat emitted from it. In the near silence of all of it, Arthur could barely make out uneven breathes from Alfred.

Tears formed in his eyes once again, but Arthur immediately wiped them away with his sleeve, not caring about how he looked. He slowly opened the door all the way, carefully walking into the room with small and quiet footsteps. He was already at the side of Alfred's bed within a couple of seconds, looking over his injured body with tears forming once more.

Alfred was now looking up at Arthur, his eyes brightened a little bit and a weak smile came from him. He opened his mouth slightly, taking in a breath in hopes to say something to Arthur.

In response to Alfred's actions, Arthur shook his head, moving his hand to Alfred's, gently running his hand against Alfred's. He smiled sadly. "No, Alfred. Don't push yourself," he said in a gentle and soothing voice.

Said person smiled, his face lighting up the slightest bit. Stubborn as he was, Alfred began speaking anyway. "Arthur, I'm so glad that you're here," he started, moving his hand to be atop Arthur's to weakly squeeze it, "Stay with me."

Arthur nodded his head, moving the small chair nearest to the two of them with his foot. He sat down, still desperately squeezing Alfred's hand back. He smiled, "Of course, I will."

Alfred gave the best cheery smile that he could muster, mouthing a silent 'I love you,' to Arthur.

As a loving response, Arthur whispers back, "I love you too." The Brit then moved over to Alfred, smiling once more before moving his lips towards Alfred's forehead, giving it a light but meaningful kiss. He moved back, looking Alfred directly in his eyes.

Thinking about Alfred's situation and how he appeared at the very moment, the tears that he had tried to hold back began flowing down his cheeks. As much as Arthur had tried to hold them back, the small drops of water were now cascading down his face. Why? Just why did this have to happen to Alfred of all people? After all, he was Arthur's hero. He had always been such a good person, why did this have to happen? Of all things… The questions circling his mind were causing more and more tears to fall.

In the midst of all this, Alfred still tried gripping onto Arthur's had tighter. "Come on, Artie. Don't cry for me. You know that I'll always be strong. I did mention over more than like a billion times to you that I am a hero. The hero never dies!" he said weakly (weakly compared to how loud Alfred usually is).

Arthur wiped his eyes once more, giving a sad laugh. "Yes, the hero never dies," he responded. Although, the both of them knew that Alfred was lying.

Smiling once more, Alfred looked at Arthur. "Hey, Arthur. Can you remind me of our promise? You know, of becoming one another's guardian angel," he said, rubbing his thumb on the top of Arthur's own hand.

The said person nodded, smiling.

"The two of us were just… happily chatting in that café closest to our home. For some reason that I can't remember, we began talking about angels. We were confident that we would both become each other's guardian angel, alive or dead-" he began.

Alfred stepped in that moment, "Correction," a small laugh, "We 'are' confident that we will become each other's angel."

That's the Alfred Arthur knew, a cheery lad who loves to jokingly correct Arthur. "Right, Love. Anyhow, we talked about always watching over each other and staying by one another's side," he states soothingly, yet sadly. Arthur kept his hand still with Alfred's, rubbing his hand. "It was just a simple thing that we said, Love. Nothing too much."

Alfred smiled at Arthur, slowly brought his lover's hand to his own lips, kissing him. "I love you so much, Arthur," he said, closing his eyes with a deep breath, "I'm tired. I want to rest myself."

Arthur gave out a sigh, knowing that Alfred's fatigue was never a good sign. He knew that Alfred might have meant that he was... No, it did mean that Alfred was dying and that was the cold, reality. "Of course, Alfred. I love you so much more," he said softly. No matter how many times they both repeated this, Arthur could never think that it was too cheesy or that they said it too much. He moved their two hands to his cheek, cradling Alfred's with his own. Tears endlessly flowed from his now shut eyes, as he repeated, "I love you so much. Stay with me. I love you so much. Stay with me," in a hypnotic manor.

One last smile came from Alfred as he his breathing steadied a bit, the monitor of his heart giving out slower, and softer beeps. He closed his eyes and saw total darkness, knowing that he was soon to never see Arthur again. He was so young, yet life said that his was now over.

In the silence of everything, Arthur mentioned one last thing to Alfred, quickly taking out the angel wing necklace that he had given him. "Be my guardian angel, just like what we had talked about."

A long, and endless buzz came from the machine monitoring Alfred's heart.

He was gone. Alfred had died.

Arthur's main concern at the moment was just that Alfred got his last wish of him, and that they actually, miraculously see each other once again.


End file.
